Structurally Unstable
by BeltayneWitch
Summary: As the rebuilding of Hogwarts is wrapping up, Hermione finds that her world is a bit less stable than she thought. Not that that's a bad thing, of course.


**Author's Note**

**_This was written as a Christmas present for my best friend and long-time partner in crime, Tabitha. I'm thrilled that she loved it, and now I'm sharing it with you all. This is my first time writing this pairing, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. All writers need a challenge every now and then. _**

**_Please enjoy and, as always, kindly review even if your review is unkind._**

**Structurally Unstable**

Hermione sighed as she stood up, stretching out the muscles in her legs and back. She had been trying to fix the last of the walkways for the past several hours with little success. The stones had been blasted apart by spell-fire in the battle that had ended the Second War with Voldemort several months previous, and some were so far gone that they would need to be replaced completely. Since May, everyone that could do so had been working meticulously trying to repair the damage Voldemort and his Death Eaters had caused to Wizarding Britain, both physically and emotionally. Hermione had spent a large chunk of that time working on the repairs to Hogwarts, along with Harry, Ron, most of the Weasleys and what was left of the order. The goal was to be able to reopen the school in time for the next school year.

It had been decided that, in order to help everyone heal and rebuild their lives, normal activities should be resumed as quickly as possible. This meant that businesses were to reopen as soon as they were in a condition to do so, and that schooling was to continue on schedule as it had for centuries. September was quickly approaching, and while a large majority of the school had been repaired, some things still needed work. Large portions of the castle itself had been reduced to piles of rubble, the greenhouses had been all but destroyed, and several areas of the grounds had to be completely excavated and rebuilt as the giants had created vast craters when they had fallen. Hermione also felt that this had something to do with the sheer amount of blood that had been spilt there. Even now in late July the ground seeped red when it rained and she could only imagine what that would do to the fragile minds of those returning in the fall.

Hermione moved away from the walkway and over towards a fairly large pile of rubble that was being used as spare materials in the rebuild. Choosing several stones from the pile, she levitated them ahead of her and back towards her work area. They would need some adjusting, but she was sure that she could finish before it got dark if she hurried. The sun was already beginning to sink behind the line of trees that marked the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and the air had grown slightly cooler without it. As she transfigured the stones and put them in place, Hermione allowed her mind to wander.

A lot of things had changed since May, she mused. So many people had died in the war, but the ones that really hurt were the friends that had been lost in that one final battle. She still fought tears every time she saw George, half expecting to see Fred jump from behind him with that ever-present mischievous glint in his eyes. The few times she had kept an eye on Teddy for Harry, who was now his legal guardian, she couldn't stop herself from listing off the ways he reminded her of his parents. Moody, Dumbledore, Dobby…they were all gone. She mourned the loss of each one of them. They had all touched her soul in some way, be it as a mentor, a friend, or as family. Unbeknownst to everyone else, she had mourned the loss of those on the other side as well. She had been raised believing that life was something precious and that when one was taken for something as foolish as war, it was to be felt and mourned regardless of affiliation or deeds.

As she finished placing the last stone, she realized what her next task was; the dungeons. There were areas of the castle's foundation that still needed to be checked for structural integrity, one of which was the Slytherin Common Room and dorms; another was the Potions classroom and adjoining office. She knew that would be one of the most difficult tasks given to her. After the battle was over, Harry had made sure that everyone knew exactly the kind of man that Severus Snape had been. He had fought to clear Snape's name and once finished, he had commissioned a portrait of the dour man to be hung next to Dumbledore's in the Headmaster's Office. The ministry had even awarded him an Order of Merlin: First Class for his selfless bravery, and for making the ultimate sacrifice in order to bring down the scourge that was Voldemort.

"At least I'm not going down there alone." She whispered to the fading twilight. McGonagall had assured her that she would be sending Hermione help for this project, someone who knew the dungeons and was adept at Charms and Transfiguration. Hermione had been in such a hurry at the time trying to get everything together to start work on the repairs to the Entrance Hall that she had failed to ask who exactly was being tasked with helping her. She cast a spell to cement the stones into place and began making her way back towards the castle. Upon entering what had become her home over the past seven years, her eyes landed on one of the last people she ever expected to see.

"Something the matter, Granger?" Sapphire blue eyes locked with her dark brown orbs. His words could have been harsh, but his tone was genuinely inquisitive. She looked away as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. What was he doing here? Last she had heard he had been testifying against his father at his trial before the Wizengamot.

"Nothing. I just didn't expect to see you here, is all," She said, shaking her head. Wayward curls fell from the messy ponytail she had placed them in, framing her face with ringlets of dark brown. "Not that you wouldn't be…it's just…never mind. Ready?"

He laughed, a warm, honest laugh that only made her blush deepen and walked towards her.

"To be honest, I probably wouldn't be if I didn't feel I had to."

She shot him a curious look as she headed towards the stairs that led into the dungeons. He was walking beside her and slightly ahead, his wand out, but down. He seemed to understand the question she was too afraid to ask.

"My father was a Death Eater. I feel like I'm responsible, in some part, for what happened here because he had a hand in it. If I had stayed, or came back with Professor Slughorn to fight against him, maybe I could have done something about it. Maybe I could have saved someone from dying by his wand. Instead, I ran like a coward because I wasn't man enough to tell my father that his choice wasn't mine." He stared ahead of them as he talked, as though that would somehow distance him from how personal this conversation was becoming. Hermione was shocked at his willingness to open up, but the pain in his eyes kept her from spouting off some halfhearted platitude that probably wouldn't help at all.

He nodded at her silence, a soft, humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Ignore my whinging if you would. I'm not even sure why I said it."

Hermione nodded, leaving the silence to fill the air between them. They had made it through the maze of corridors and were standing outside the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Just as Hermione was about the give the password, something caught her attention. It sounded like screaming, but it was so faint that she couldn't be sure. She moved away, down the corridor and deeper into the dungeons, her wand held aloft in front of her ready for an attack.

"Wha-"

"Shh." She cut him off, her head cocked to the side as she listened for the sound again. She was just about to dismiss it all together and get back to the task at hand when she heard it again. It was louder this time, as though it was closer, and it was very definitely the sound of screaming. She shot him a look over her shoulder, glad that he understood her meaning as he pulled his wand arm up, and followed behind her into the shadows ahead of them. The pair moved silently as they followed the echo of screams. The sound was making Hermione's skin crawl. It sounded as though someone was being tortured, bringing back memories of her time spent on the floor of Malfoy Manor. She rubbed at the scar on her forearm, the skin prickling at the thought.

Without reason, the screaming stopped. Hermione looked back, meeting questioning blue eyes. She was just about to speak when the sconces flickered and Peeves shot from around a nearby corner, laughing hysterically and racing away. It took a moment for her to realize what had just happened, and then she was screaming down the corridor.

"Peeves, you bloody nuisance! Just wait until I get a hold of you! I'm sure the Bloody Baron would love to-" her words cut off as the floor beneath them began to tremble. Before either of them could make a move, the floor gave way beneath them, sending them both plummeting into darkness.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"What the hell just happened?" her words were slurred and jumbled. Her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat and she felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood against her right temple. The last thing she remembered was heading to the dungeons to check for structural damage when Peeves (that damn poltergeist!) had caused a ruckus. She had followed, fearing someone was injured, and the floor had begun to shake. Then she remembered she hadn't been alone when it had happened. She sat up quickly, only to feel a large, warm hand pushing her back down.

"You hit your head, Granger. It's probably not the best idea to move at the moment." His voice sounded muffled, like there was cotton in her ears. She let her eyes fall closed, hoping that it would help ward off the dizziness that had made her world suddenly tilt on its axis. She could hear the sound of fabric ripping just before he muttered a quick 'Aguamenti' and pressed the damp cloth to her temple. A soft moan passed her lips before she even realized what was happening.

"Without knowing how extensive the damage is, I didn't want to risk healing it. This is the best we can do until help comes." It was a relief to know that he had chosen to ignore her lack of control, focusing instead on cleaning the blood from her face.

"Thank you." She whispered, her cheeks burning. His touch was warm and gentle, not something she ever expected from a Slytherin. She opened her eyes, looking up at him in the dim light that filtered in through the collapsed floor above them where she could just make out the flickering of a sconce a good fifteen feet overhead. She looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time, feeling slightly guilty about never acknowledging him before now. His eyes were the color of the deep ocean and just as fathomless. His hair was shaggy, but not overly long. He had a sharp jaw, a straight nose and a slightly heavy brow, giving him the appearance of a Greco-Roman statue. His frame was slight, but she could tell by the way him Muggle t-shirt shifted with his movements that beneath his lean exterior was an unexpected strength. He was, overall, quite handsome and she berated herself for having never noticed him until now. His eyes locked with hers, pulling her in but giving nothing of his own thoughts away.

'Must be a Slytherin trait,' she thought.

"See something you like?" He had meant to sound cocky she was sure, but he lacked the arrogance to pull it off. Instead, it sounded as though he was asking her a legitimate question, and without thinking she gave her honest answer.

"Yes."

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise before narrowing, anger sparking in their depths. He held her gaze and for a moment she felt as though he was searching her soul for validation of her words. His eyes softened, the anger fading as quickly as it had appeared. She felt a sense of loss as he looked away. His hand was still holding the cloth to her forehead and she reached up, covering it with her own. Neither of them spoke for what felt to Hermione like an eternity.

"You said help was coming?" She asked, trying to break the sudden tension that hung around them like a dense fog.

He nodded, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes for a moment before looking away again.

"I sent out my partronus. Everyone should be at dinner, so I'm hoping it doesn't take long. On the bright side, I guess we know where we need to start with the foundation repairs."

It took her a moment to grasp what he had said and then she couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled from her chest. He looked down at her again, that look of curiosity on his face as his lips turned up at the corners and his eyes crinkled. As her laughter died away, she couldn't help but smile up at him. Was she going crazy? Hermione Granger, the princess of Gryffindor, laughing at a joke made by a Slytherin. No one would believe it.

"Who would have thought the two of us would be sharing a laugh in the dungeons." She giggled.

"No one, I'm sure. If they had, they probably would have been admitted to St. Mungo's on the spot." He grinned. "So, I hear you finally came to your senses about dating Weasley."

It was a rough attempt at conversation and his words lacked the venom that most Slytherins used when talking about the Weasley family, but Hermione was glad for it. "Ron and I…we just didn't work out. It's hard to explain."

"Not really. I get it. Everyone expected you two to end up together. He was always around, and it seemed like an easy decision. I've been there."

She nodded slightly, "How do you mean?"

"When I was young, my father had a contract with the Parkinson's stating I would marry Pansy when we were both of age and graduated Hogwarts. Both of our families expected us to be together. They expected us to fall in love and get married at the first chance we could. Honestly, I'm sure she was glad when I had our contract nullified after my father's hearing. Not that I was sad to see her go. I could never stand to be around her. She was so whiny. She was always pining away after someone else; mad because she was stuck with me. She never understood why I tried so hard at school, why I strove to be the best. She would beat me down, tell me I wasn't good enough for her and that she deserved better. She was probably right."

"Hey, don't ever say that. You were one of the top students in our year. You're probably one of the only students to make it into NEWT-level potions with an O on your OWLs, other than myself of course. You're smart, you're driven, you're damn good with a cauldron, you have an unexpectedly brilliant sense of humor, and you're rather handsome. She would have been lucky to have been with you. Don't you dare put yourself down because of something Pansy Parkinson said. Really, she's the very _last_ person you should ever listen to in regards to…well, anything."

"Wow, Granger, I didn't know you cared so much." He said jokingly, though the look on his face spoke volumes about how much her words had meant to him. "Can I be honest with you, Granger?"

"Hermione."

"Can I be honest with you, _Hermione_?"

"Always."

"I never held any of it against her for the simple fact that I was pining away after someone else, too."

"Oh." There was a long moment of silence before Hermione spoke again. "Who was it, if you don't mind my asking?"

He suddenly looked anxious and became very interested in a loose thread on his shirt. Hermione pushed herself up into a sitting position, turning to face him. His hand had fallen from her forehead but was still grasped within hers.

"Whatever it is you have to say, say it. I'll be happy to listen." She urged him. He had piqued her curiosity and she wasn't going to let him go that easy without some form of answer. "Please?"

He took a deep breath as though he were trying to find the courage to speak. As he exhaled he mumbled something that Hermione couldn't quite make out.

"Er…could you say that one more time? I didn't catch a word of it."

"I said, it was you," his voice wavered slightly.

"Oh." She felt the blush creep over he cheeks once more. She seemed to be blushing a lot around him. "I…I didn't know."

"I didn't want you to know. Can you imagine what would have happened if I had made my feelings known at the time? We'd both likely be dead."

"Well, what about now? What happens now that you have made them known?"

"Now, we get rescued, we finish repairing the school, and then we both go our separate ways because we both know that you would never take a chance on someone like me. I'm no good for you; I'm man enough to admit that."

"Is that what you want?" She sounded a bit deflated.

"Merlin, no; I'm just being realistic. I find it's easier than holding out hope."

Silence once again stretched between them as Hermione thought about how to respond. She glanced down at their entwined fingers, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Hermione glanced up to find him watching her. His face was expressionless, void of all emotion, but in his eyes she could see a small spark of hope dancing behind a cloud of vulnerability and fear. He had opened himself up and laid his soul out for her to see, and now he was terrified that she would crush him. She had the power to do so she knew that, and most other Gryffindor's would have taken the chance to do so, but not her. She still didn't know how she could have missed how incredibly alike they were over the past seven years.

Everything she had said to him before was true; he was smart, funny, handsome and incredibly talented, but he was also so much more. He was brave, he was honest and, while Harry and Ron would never believe her, he had a heart that felt as deeply as her own. People like them, bookish, intelligent people who stove towards what they wanted in spite of everyone around them that only wanted to bring them down, they worked hard at appearing unbothered and calm when deep down, they felt every stab that came with the hurtful words, the taunts and the mocking. Hermione knew that, even now after fighting in a war against blood purists and winning, at times she just wanted to curl up and cry because someone told her she wasn't good enough. It was one of the many reasons she had broken up with Ron.

"Would you like to grab a bite in at the Hog's Head tomorrow?" She asked casually, still looking at their hands between them. When he didn't respond, she chanced a glance at him through her lashes. He was looking at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"I guess that's a no, then." She smirked mischievously at him as she pulled her hand from his, "Too bad, really. I was rather starting to enjoy the idea. Oh well."

Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards him, sending her sprawling across his lap and chest. She blushed, righting herself just in time for him to press his lips to hers in a tentative kiss to which she gladly and eagerly responded. As they pulled apart several minutes later, gasping for air, they suddenly realized the absurdity of their situation. At once they both began laughing. Hermione was still sitting on his lap, her legs on either side of his, with her arms around his neck, the fingers of one had grasping at his hair. He had both arms around her, one hand at the base of her neck, the other on her lower back. Her shirt had ridden up at some point and his hand was pressed firmly against the flesh there. As was her usual luck, the sound of shouts and hurried footsteps came from the corridor above them.

"Hermione! Nott! You down there?" It was Harry who called out, Ron who cast a silent Lumos that stung her eyes. She locked eyes with him again, wishing she could fall into their oceanic depths. There was absolutely no way Harry and Ron were going to let her live this down. She hid her face against his shoulder for a moment before looking up at their rescuers.

"Yes, we're here. We're alright."

"She's lying. I'm fairly sure she has a concussion. She's lost all of her good senses." He smirked at her. He whispered into her ear causing a shiver to run through her, "Let's hope they don't return."


End file.
